IVF. cancelled.

I did it.

14 hours before egg retrieval I called off the procedure. after 12 days of stimming and daily (4 hour round trip train) monitoring in manhattan (including yesterday's 4:12 am train) at $32-$37 round trip, $4 subway round trip, $7 daily parking, and the occasional frenzied cab ($30), the cycle's a bust.

my "current" RE is on maternity leave (how selfish) and in terms of my personal care, I have fallen through the cracks. suddenly I don't have a doctor. I refused to have the temp RE take over and I chose a doctor within the practice who is known for his success with poor responders. I am the epitome of the poor responder.

after daily, numerous calls to "new RE dr d" he never called me back. his stupid ass, idiotic, incompetent receptionist assured me that he or she would return my phone calls. my biggest fear was that the transition to "new RE dr d" wouldn't be smooth. wouldn't happen. my insticts were right on. I indeed fell through the cracks and was in no-man's land flailing at cornell.

I had 2 "senior" follicles and 1 "junior." I was on the fence about proceeding with such a small reserve. I needed to speak with a doctor to get more information, facts, before I could feel confident with the retrieval. it all seemed way too risky. after at least 7 frantic calls to new RE dr d yesterday alone, I still did not get a response. I ended up ringing the main desk. this was an emergency!

early evening I finally touched base with the attending on-call. he spent 15 minutes with me going into detail my b/w and u/s results. we talked about the risks of failing and the cost. we talked about trying a different protocol next time. the point is, WE TALKED! I actually had a conversation with a doctor who addressed my concerns. halleluiah! "if you were my patient, I would suggest we not go though with the retrieval." that's all I needed to hear -- sound advice from a pro. I am obviously incapable of managing my own care and making significant medical decisions. I draw pictures for a living.

my ovaries are killing me right now. I am happy(?) with my decision -- it was the right one -- but very sad and disappointed. does that make sense? b is pretty upset and he is concerned that each delayed cycle could potentially be worse. time is not on our side. I'm old.

this last week has been total hell and complete torture for me. between a very sick, post chemo pug in diapers with uncontrollable oozing diarreah (he was eventually hospitalized), the stresses of an IVF cycle (with no doctor), and dealing with cancelled insurance coverage (I forget to send in a check-- surprise, surprise) I am completely and totally spent.

baby parking

"I'm off now to get some diapers." DH said.

how I've longed to hear those exact words. yes, b returned from shopping with a package of diapers. sadly they were purchased for chilli, our dog.

the second round of chemo really destroyed our little pug. his symptoms have been extreme -- lethargy, vomiting, shaking, drooling, and the terrible, terrible explosive diarrhea. it's so bad. it's a constant uncontrollable stream that requires a diaper. I'm forever cleaning him up, mopping the floors and rewashing dog beds. it's so incredibly heartbreaking. he really seems to be suffering and I am responsible.

how do you know when enough is enough? am I being selfish by putting him through all these debilitating treatments? he had a few nauseated days with his first chemo and then he rallied. you wouldn't even know he was sick. this round has been an entirely different experience -- one I don't know if he (or I) can go through again.

I am scheduled for egg retrieval, with 3 lousy follicles, this thursday. I am totally unprepared for this. I feel like it would be a lot less trouble to simply toss the thousands of dollars out the window instead of actually following through with this cycle. I've been so focused on chilli and have completely neglected my own health and diet. waking up daily at 4 am to trek into the city for monitoring is exhausting. working (even just a little) is exhausting. dealing with multiple REs, the IVF nurses, the ER vet, the oncologist, the billing department, the insurance company AND the electrician is exhausting. feeling incredibly defeated and sad is... well you know, exhausting.

pulling into a parking space at super stop and shop in order to buy chilli some boiled chicken, white rice and pedialyte just added fuel to the fire. it was a typical non-handicapped space until I noticed the sign. "this space reserved for those with infants." in other words, "infertiles not allowed."

my life

as a poor responder. more distressing news. all those promising follicles that we saw a few days ago are no longer. where did they go? I am now back to 2 (maybeee 3) on my left ovary and 1 on my right. goddammit! what the hell?! my 8 3/4 month pregnant RE said "I'm sorry." she's sorry?!

I blame the 3 months of bcps. "don't over-suppress the poor responder!" I tried with all my might to not completely fall apart in the middle of rush hour in grand central. the lump in my throat actually hurt. all I wanted to do was collapse and sob on the #6 train platform. do we continue with this cycle? the reality is this whole IVF thing is probably just a fantasy. an indulgent, exhaust the savings, challenge the marriage, risk major depression, full-on fantasy.

the realization of possibly never getting pregnant in my lifetime hit very, VERY hard. it's an "awareness" that you want to have when you are safe at home with family not running to catch the commuter train to new haven. this is it. for real. if the IVF is not a success it's an entirely new challenge that I am not prepared for. this morning when I woke at 4:00 I sincerely had hope. I believed I had multiple follicles filled with potential. it's b's birthday and I was banking on having fantastic news to celebrate. we could use some good news in this house.

happy birthday b! and I'm sorry.

labor day weekend

a memory I will never forget. labor day 1997.

I had just purchased, completely on my own, a 1-bedroom (post war 1960's ugly white brick) co-op apartment in manhattan. it was on the cusp of beautiful gramercy park -- but no man's land actually. it had a doorman. it had private outdoor space. it was all mine!

my mom came down to visit. our relationship had been "strained" for a few months because she had openly (and painfully) disapproved of my long term boyfriend at the time. he and I were planning on spending our lives together and it was common knowledge that my family was not thrilled. these were challenged times.

she loved my choice... in apartments. I could tell she was very proud of me. yes, the space needed work and some fine tuning but it was all good. nyc on labor day weekend is a ghost town. we totally took advantage of the empty streets. proper straight-up gin martinis and polenta at the union square cafe bar. late afternoon movies at the angelica film center. shopping on lower 5th ave. we had a fantastic time. she loved NY. she had the jackie O sunglasses and hermes scarf. she fit right in.

I remember hailing her a cab back to la guardia airport early tuesday morning before heading off to work. I was unhappy to see her go and she was visibly sad as well. we promised to go to the us open next labor day to see some great tennis. flushing ny is just a few subway stops away.

my mom landed safely in boston and got home to maine uneventfully.

then came the call. I remember exact details like it was yesterday. what I was wearing -- a brown suit and light blue shirt. the weather -- cloudy and very muggy. the meeting -- seagrams building, midtown manhattan. she had had a major seizure back at home and was hospitalized at mass general hospital with a glioblastoma brain tumor. cancer. how could this be?! she had conquered ovarian cancer some years before. she had already suffered through the surgeries and all the horrific treatments. how could this be?! her life, our lives, changed forever that day. never to be the same.

labor day weekend 1997. what an amazing time we had. that was the last time I saw mum healthy and well. I will forever cherish this memory.

it's a "go!"

I got the green light to proceed with IVF #3 (or is it #2.5?) the cyst has fizzled to an unremarkable size and my estrogen levels are spectacular. FINALLY!

I have more follicles this time too! 3 on one side and 4 on the other. the last cycle I only had 2, total, to start with.

:::::: lifting our new simon pearce wine glass high in the air (wedding gift received a week ago) with a splash of pinot noir (for the sake of celebration) :::::::

cheers to a positive cycle! cheers to our little chilli! to growing follicles and shrinking tumors!

4 am wake up call

off to cornell tomorrow (try again) to see if I can start my stims. my meds are getting all dusty. this IVF cycle has been delayed way, way too long now. if that infamous cyst is still lingering I am going to demand they get rid of it right then and there. I'm not getting any younger.

hmmm.

I'm amazed by something every single day. sometimes it's a good thing. sometimes, well, not so good.

how can a giant suv with a mountain bike on the back and kayak on the roof be parked in a handicapped space at the post office? nice.

how can a little dog be so full of cancer? 2 completely unrelated cancers!

how can a small condominium be so much work and so expensive to maintain? I'm wicked (I'm from maine) tired of people saying "oh, but you are married to a doctor." yeah, he is indeed a physician but he is also a "student." students don't make money! students don't have a salary! some students owe $$$,$$$ in school loans (take note of the number of dollar signs.) yikes! the financial drama here on prospect street is genuine. the ancient, not to code pipes in our newly renovated "master bath" (tee hee) are no exaggeration. I really wish we had rented.

how can our contractor sleep at night knowing he totally took advantage of us, the infertiles (x2)? he did a crappy, low budget job and basically stole our money. another life lesson. lesson #396,885.

a new attitude?

patience over at the impatient patient brought up a very interesting question. "are you a different person online and on your blog?"

I was amazed at the number of people that said they censored their blogs in order to not offend anyone. that they are not being true to what they are thinking and feeling. wow. I am the total opposite. if you can't be honest here where can you be honest? (that's just my point of view. no offense please.) this silly site of mine is MY relief. this is where I can type like a raving lunatic and be open and vent. we all know IF is wicked. I (sort of) get it out of my system before b comes home from work. it's my "dear diary, I had a shitty day. IVF sucks..." and it happens to be public. I'd rather bitch and moan about MIL online than do something stupid in real life that I would regret later on. believe me, I am not all gloom and doom, angry, a total debbie downer. starting today I will end each post on a positive note -- excerpts from my grateful journal. if only I could find it.

3 very eventful and positive things happened just yesterday. three! do good things come in 3's as well?

1 - chilli, who had a terrible, nauseated day on wednesday, started to eat again. a pug that rejects hand fed roast beef is a real reason for serious concern. wednesday was day 5 after his chemo and arrogant vet (vet #3) anticipated that he would be in bad shape during this time. well it passed. he actually has a little spring in his step again. woohoo!

2 - b passed his surgical boards!!! congratulations b! he is always so dramatic after he takes these medical exams. "I failed!" well, you didn't. I knew he didn't. he is postponing the oral exams until may. he thinks we have "a lot going on right now." he thinks?

drum role please. 3 - MIL is not coming labor day weekend. that's all I am going to say.

a new attitude? no, not really. just a little less pessimistic grumpiness and more of my "what a glorious day" side. whatever.

little follow-up after "a's" comment below

I just have to make it incredibly clear that I have treated my MIL from day 1 with nothing but respect. for example, I spent the majority of my wedding day in a korean costume after a VERY long traditional korean ceremony. I barely had any time in the beautiful white silk dress that cost me a fortune and that I loved so much. the ceremony was so time consuming and once it was over my guests started to leave. how is that for respect?

she is in america now and we do things a little differently over here. I don't bow to my elders but I am certainly very respectful towards them. that is how I was raised. I am also devoted to her son. I was able to help him out financially on many occasions and buy our home based on my personal funds I earned from my own business and tons of hard work. I clean the house. I shop for groceries. I cook the majority of the meals. she has got to snap out of this religious haze and accept the reality that I can be "not korean" AND a good person. if she loves her son it's time she learned(?) to be nice to me. isn't that what jesus would do?

and what if b and I should have a child? her visits will be few and far between unless I start getting the respect I deserve.

sorry "a" you struck a nerve. I could go on and on with stories about her rejecting me. that would be a different blog entirely.

they say

bad things come in 3's.

1 - cancelled/postponed IVF #3 (or is it #2.5)
2 - chilli's diagnosis of 2 cancers
3 - MIL coming labor day

oh no. why does she have to visit now? why does she have to visit at all? I have so much on my plate at the moment and her arrival could easily push me over the edge. I am teetering there right now.

she "doesn't care for me." that is putting it mildly. the thing is, she doesn't even know me. her strong opinions are based on me not being a church goer and having religion a significant part of my life. I guess if I am not in church I must, no doubt, be worshiping the devil and committing all sorts of sins. that's me -- busting all the commandments! "thou shall..."

she loves to send me religious books. I am an earth conscious person that cares about the world's future. they go right into the recycling bin.

she better be on her best behavior. if she starts in with the criticism and speaking only in korean (to blatantly exclude me) I will have a total fit. the house is still not settled from the move. I have accomplished what I am capable of and it's not a whole lot. who cares. the kitchen is not completely painted, the bedroom still has boxes as dressers, and my office is a post-move dumping ground. I don't care. if she is mean to me I cannot be responsible for what I might say. and oh, I have a lot to say.

I've let her talk down to me in the past. I've let her negative comments and judgments get under my skin and upset me. not anymore. I'm trying my best to function normally while watching my dog struggle to breath and my successful IVF dreams disappear.

this was very telling. I met MIL's brother for the first time at our wedding rehearsal dinner. "wow. you are actually very pretty." he is clearly shocked and perplexed. she must have painted a hideous picture of me to all the relatives -- a disgusting and rude ogre of a person. well, I am not. surprise, surprise.

nyc to boston appointments

thursday. nyc. cornell. the cyst is still there and producing too much estrogen. IVF canceled again. goddammit! I had a borderline argument with my RE's aggravating receptionist (who happens to share the same name as MIL. figures.) I called to "speak with" not leave a message with RE. aggravating receptionist insists I call MIA IVF nurse. fuck off. I NEED to have a conversation with dr s. what part don't you understand?! dr s called back an hour later. so I guess she really does exist. oh, and she is very much pregnant with her first.

"blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, cyst. blah, blah, blah, cyst blah. no IVF for you. blah, blah, blah."

"thanks for calling me back -- ("finally." which I mumbled under my breath). oh, and congratulations on your pregnancy dr s."

"thank you. I am more motivated now to help my patients get pregnant."

what the hell does THAT mean? was she giving me some half-assed treatment up until now? what does motivated mean exactly? I am happy to hear this but at the same time I am a little pissed.

friday. boston. chilli's oncologist. it was a very overwhelming experience. vet #3 has not a morsel of decent bedside manner. he rambled off cancer jargon and various protocols like he was giving a lecture to an auditorium full of vet students. he got visibly annoyed if I asked a question that had anything to do with part of his presentation that he had already gone over. "like I SAID..." he should have said "weren't you listening, stupid?" I was put on the spot to make to major decisions concerning our little guy's care. I should not have been alone at this appointment. how can an obviously confused and sobbing person know what to do?

chilli had his first round of chemo. it was difficult to watch. he wimpered and shook the entire time he had the IV in his little arm. I have never seen him like that. all I know is that this mysterious cancer in his chest is very advanced and very invasive. the unrelated liver lymphoma has been put on "the back burner." how can a 26 lb dog have so much cancer? the chemo will hopefully reduce the size of the mass (a mass that is so rare and, this amazes me, unidentifiable) and give chilli some relief until...

our intention is to keep him comfortable and pain free. I anticipate a rough road ahead.

bad news gets worse

our little boy is full of cancer. 2 different kinds. I was told (by vet #2) to keep our appointment with the oncologist (vet #3) in boston this friday. I am really not so sure why as he is full of disease and treatment is not likely. I have my own appointment at cornell tomorrow to see about this pending IVF cycle. I've spent the last week literally trying to make contact and get simple answers from the medical community - both human and canine. every attempt has been a huge disappointment. I can only seem to communicate (wrong word) with pissy receptionists, random bitter staff, and voicemail. it's next to impossible to speak with anyone who knows anything of substance - i.e. my RE or chilli's vet. nobody at cornell can tell me definitively when I am supposed to have my post cyst/post bcps follow-up appointment. my dopey IVF nurse gave me 2 completely different instructions. of course she is out of the office until friday. remember? this woman NEVER works. chilli's vet #1 had us in limbo for 3 days for scheduling a visit with vet #2/#3. when we got the "appointment" and showed up they said they had never even heard of us. how can this be? both my vet and RE are "for profit" organizations (HUGE, gigantic profit) and the care and attention has been shit.

we are at critical points here. my very special dog is dying of cancer and I am literally lost in the IVF chaos of cornell. we have both fallen through the cracks. falling doesn't feel very good.

I'm heartbroken

our little guy is very very sick. we just found out he has a massive cancerous tumor in his chest and it's pressing on his lungs. his breathing has been compromised. we are off to boston to meet with an oncologist to get more details, and, we hope and pray, a treatment protocol. please send positive thoughts his way.



fucking cancer has hit my family once again. fuck you tumor!

typical response

if I hear this once more I think I will scream my head off. please note - this is not directed towards you jwp. we simply need support, good friends, and a whole lot understanding (especially if I appear a little out of sorts - which is usually the case.) we are not seeking out answers (except at cornell.)

adoption. yes! it is truly a fantastic thing. I'm just tired of people suggesting that we go down that road. it's become the oh so popular and generic solution to our "problem." lots of people we know, CLIENTS EVEN, throw the word around so easily like it's that simple. "if the third IVF doesn't work just adopt." yeah, ok. now why didn't I think of that?

I look at my sisters and my brother. I see both of my parents in all 3 of them. it's an amazing feeling/connection to see such a strong resemblance especially when both parents have passed away. it's familiar. it's comforting. my mother died 9 years ago this coming november. I see her constantly (physical traits, certain mannerisms, expressions) in my siblings and this makes me incredibly happy. wow. she's gone but I can still see her.

I recall one of my sisters saying that she enjoyed being pregnant. I take it back. she loved it. I want that amazing experience. they (the fertiles) say there is nothing else like it. call me selfish. call me self-absorbed. call me narcissistic. but I want it! I want to get big and fat. I want to feel that first kick. I want to have a child with b. I want that powerful family connection. the artist and the physician. the white girl and the asian guy. our child would no doubt be an unusual combination (and very earth conscious and skilled at recycling.)

I'm not ruling out adoption. I actually always sort of imagined having a few foster children in my life. wednesday's child on the news always touched me. b and I have not talked about the "a" word so I have no idea how he feels about it. I take that back too. we have discussed the gigantic price tag that goes with adopting a child but that's about it. god, they really don't make this easy for us. parenthood.

honesty is not the best policy

this is why we infertiles keep to ourselves and on occasion, tell a blatant lie. I have been avidly avoiding all baby showers and parties that are centered around small children. these events are just too much for me at the moment. it is hard enough to walk past the baby section at target without feeling a sharb jab of emptiness.

I recently received an evite for a baby's birthday party this weekend. my friend has a ton of siblings and cousins that all have infants and toddlers. estimated ratio: 1-3 kids per adult. I cannot do it. it's too hard. I idiotically decided to be open and honest instead of the old "b and I have made other plans already, sorry." I sent her a gracious and very apologetic email explaining my state of mind. I was hoping she'd "understand." here's the kicker. she had her son via cornell center for reproductive medicine and infertility.

her reply - "sometimes you have to put on a tough face. It makes you stronger and able to manage things better if you face your problems."

face my problems? my infertility problems? my lack of fallopian tubes? my DH's few and highly challenged sperm? I was so upset that I posted her response on one of the IF message boards that I frequent. I got 16 responses

"- I think I'd be tempted to reply that my "problem" is with unsupportive and self-centered friends. It sounds like she's just pissed because you aren't coming to her party.

- That is awful!! How are you NOT "facing your problem"?! Does she think that by going to the stupid bday party, you will be able to better come to terms with T TTC? At least you can be assured that YOU did the right thing by writing a thoughtful/apologetic email, and she was the one that acted inappropriately.

- Oh gosh girl. WHAT an insensitive friend--especially since she experienced IF herself. I am so sorry she acted that way--you completely don't deserve it! You took the higher road here--rest assured. Self -preservation is EXTREMELY important during IF. Some people can handle certain situations better than others--how about this? I haven't gone to my niece or nephew's b-day parties in over a year OR any baby showers either. You know what? TOO BAD! I have to deal with IF and IVF---I am more important than anything else that bothers me and upsets me and that I can avoid. My sil and bil were fine with it (and even if they weren't, I still wouldnt've have gone--I see them all the time but birthday parties with tons of kids and preggos is not my idea of fun at all) Sorry she's so self absorbed that she can't dig back into her memory of when she suffered from IF and be a supportive friend. (((HUGS))) Do what's good FOR YOU!!!!!!!

- Granted I'm quite hormonal right now but her response made me very angry. I'm sorry your friend has lost her damn mind, not to mention her manners. I think birthday parties for kids are fantastic things but I really don't get some people's obsession with having ALL their friends there for their child's party. IF they want to come, YAY! But to actually get miffed if they don't? Beyond me.... I'm sorry again, hang in there.

- wow, are you going to respond back that you are facing your problems, on your own away from a bunch of babies and kids? i almost understand naive people saying stupid things but she is supposed to be a part of ourt club! That's it, I'm kicking her out!!!!

- And how does sitting through a baby's birthday party qualify as "facing your problems?" How is that going to help your state of mind at all? Ugh. I would celebrate that kid's birthday with a bottle of wine out on my patio."

reduce, reuse, recycle.

on a very sad note, Trish over at fertile hope is coping with a m/c. I am very sad for her. I was thrilled to add her to my BFP peeps list. poor thing.

on an angry note, some might think I verbally assaulted a neighbor's elderly father this morning. I am turning into the condo dumpster police recycling bully. the older, non-english speaking, chinese man had an armful of plastic and he was on his way to the dumpster. if there is one thing I am passionate about, it's recycling. it's easy to do. it takes so little effort. it makes a difference! of the 22 units in our complex only 8 recycle. EIGHT! that's criminal! I counted the bins before they were picked up yesterday morning. come on people! not recycling is yet another example of selfish me me me behavior.

I stopped the poor man in his tracks and tried my best to communicate "NO! NO dumpster! recycle please." the more I repeated this the louder it got. he laughed but I think he understood me in the end. my new mission now is to get on the condo board and make recycling a priority around here. I am the condo dumpster police recycling bully and I am watching you!

secret handshake

there she was. I knew her deal immediately after I set up my towel and beach chair about 10 feet away from her.

she was around my age - although a little younger. she was sporting a wedding band and solitaire - and a nice one too! she was also reading, like me, a hardcover book. she was not, like me, slathered in high spf suntan lotion. silly girl. you should know better in this day and age.

it was her fantastic "beach bag" that gave her away. there was no way that that bag has ever carried a plastic pail and shovel in it. the inside has never been exposed to sand, loose cherrios, or soggy diapers. there she was. at the beach on a beautiful day, alone like me, surrounded by tons of mothers chasing small children. a fellow infertile.

she had to be. beaches in the summertime are all about families. I suspected pcos or maybe "unexplained." I just sensed it. was she resting up before starting an IVF cycle? did she just have an IUI earlier this week? does her husband have zero motility? who knows. what I do know is that she doesn't have a child. maybe this was her choice. but with the high percentage of women out there experiencing infertility the chances are pretty good she is "one of us."

all we need now is some sort of handshake to clearly identify one another.

postponed and/or canceled

I've been away for a few days. nothing like traveling with a zippity quick macbook pro laptop and no power cord. my virtual life and all its connections were just an outlet away. I was so denied.

cd2 b/w and u/s revealed some bad news. a cyst. a 20mm cyst. it's producing a ton of estrogen and my levels are too high to proceed. IVF # 3 (or is it 2.5) is postponed and/or canceled. I am so upset. I was instructed to take 2 more weeks of bcps and then drag my ass back in for more tests. up at 4 am to take the 1 hour 45 minute "express" train to nyc. I am not taking this news very well. the constant stumbling blocks are really taking a toll on me. my state of mind. my will to move forward with all of this. it's just becoming too hard - this "tiptoe" living. I'm emotionally exhausted. I try my hardest not to to be and I am rather skilled now at fooling people. the cracks however, are beginning to show.

it just took me 20 minutes to unearth some tylenol. my head is throbbing. the pressure only gets worse when I glance over at the giant bag of IVF meds that I picked up earlier today (along with a $25 parking ticket.) maybe after some good quality sleep (sans pug gas AND with the added luxury of air conditioning) I will feel stronger and less... cracked.

"we're living large tonight b! the ac is going ON!"

move = $$,$$$

the money we have spent since the move to a cheaper part of the world is ridiculous. it hurts actually. I feel physical pain.

yale's healthplan is crap. super crap! even with an "employee discount," we only get $1,000 a year towards IVF. come on. that's insulting. I would be less offended if they offered nothing. we have no choice but to stick with cobra and dish out $1,000 a month. delaying our upcoming cycle because of the stressful condo purchase/renovation/move was pretty indulgent. so selfish of me.

I now have connecticut plates and I hate them! my car insurance went up an additional $1,000 a year. fuck! I spent 4 hours (8:15 - 12:15) at the always pleasant dmv yesterday. I went in with an expired license and a temporary one that was good for 2 more days. my current car inspection had inspired and I have a new, and pretty damn cumbersome, hyphenated married name. if I didn't get a valid license that day I would have had to take a written and driving test. no way man.

after the silly VIN inspection, I waited 15 minutes in line just to be told I needed my license first. "go to room 5." I filled out all my paperwork and got in yet another line. 45 minutes later jerky behind the desk told me a copy of my marriage license was not acceptable for my hyphenated name change. "use my maiden name then. I really don't care at this point." but the piece of mail I brought had a hyphen. either way I had to go back home and get the proper documentation - mail sans hyphen or the marriage license. dmv bastards.

after rummaging like a banshee through box after box I found the license. I drove back to the dmv totally pissed. jerky in room 5 gave me a pass to go to the head of the line when I returned. nice, I thought. when I did that I pissed off an entire room. jerky said "wait here a momment" and he proceeded to go ON A BREAK! 20 minutes later someone else replaced him. NOW I am really mad. on hour later (after eye exam and hideous photo session) I had my new valid drivers license. I felt like I looked in my photo. beat up. defeated. 1000 years old.

then the drama with the plates and registration. back to room 1. I cut in line AGAIN to get a numbered ticket to wait in yet another line. 25 people in front of me! and no book or magazine! dammit! "number 285." the bully was wickedly rude right off the bat. (dmv employees clearly hate their jobs.) after going through all my papers she denied me new plates. "your name on your insurance doesn't match your license. so sorry." ohhhh. the hyphenation pain!

"it IS my name! plus a little something extra!" give me a break! I was desperate at this point. the bully "sensed my unhappiness" and reluctantly gave me a fax number. I was instructed to call the dopes at the insurance company and have then fax over a the proper name adjusted document. 15 minutes later the fax arrived but had the wrong state on it. COME ON!!!! the bully was irritated as well by now and proceeded to lecture me on driving with inaccurate paperwork. piss off. just give me my stupid plates.

4 hours and $292 later, I am a legal (and very poor) connecticut resident. I hate it here. lessons learned? stay where you are. I'll say it again. moving sucks. and...

"first name maiden name" does NOT equal "first name maiden name - surname." with marriage you become an entirely different person.

baby name rant

I have been biting my tongue for a very long time on this particular subject. this post is long overdue.

super trendy baby names. bleck.

what ever happened to meaningful names? tradition? family names passed down from generation to generation. I keep hearing about these "so 2007" names and made up, distorted, ridiculous spellings - it's incredibly annoying. absurd actually.

"jewelz" "jozlyn" "katen" "breeley" "graycyn" "quade" what the hell? JEWELZ?! are you kidding me? don't do it! you'll regret it. think mullet haircuts and gouchos. there was a time when they were both acceptable. they were even considered cool.

I can speak from experience. I was given a extremely unusual and rare (some might say odd) name when I entered this world. a name that has tortured me on and off my entire life. I've been made fun of, laughed at and questioned "so really. what is your birth name?" piss off.

my point is, please be minful when choosing your child's name and its spelling. he/she has to live with it foorreevveerr. and forever is a very long time to be stuck in a groovy trend.

stuff

no more. I've reached my limit with personal belongings. NO MORE THINGS!

I was born into a family of hardcore shoppers. I remember the days of being very small and sitting and waiting on the steps of the original filene's basement in downtown boston. "meet me back here in 2 hours. here's money for a hotdog." my mom would say. off she went to spend (while saving) money. saks and barneys for less. many bargains to behold.

I cannot escape it. shopping is in my blood. high FSH is in my blood. I cannot rid myself of that either. shit.

I have a small and growing collection of generous wedding/birthday giftcards. no joke. target. villeroy and boch. 2 separate macy's cards. pottery barn. tj maxx. a consumer's dream come true - all that plastic! and no aprs or late fees! these are fantastic and very much appreciated gifts don't get me wrong. we just really need to be very selective and conscious of our purchases. no more shoes! ( I cannot believe I am saying that.) we will be packing boxes and moving yet again after b's fellowship ends. 2 - 3 years from now. gross.

moving changes your perspective on stuff. packing puts you in touch with every single item you own. do I really require all these candle holders, rolls of wrapping paper or black turtlenecks? this past month I realized b and I have everything we could possibly need or want in our life. however, there is just one thing blatantly (and painfully) missing. a child of our own.

home improvement 1-2-3

paint kitchen. hate the sheen. repaint kitchen.

paint bathroom. hate the color. repaint bathroom.

we spackled, primed and painted so much yesterday that our feet literally hurt. our feet!

moving sucks. I just really, REALLY want to feel settled once again. I wake up every morning feeling pretty good. then... I look around our bedroom. gross. boxes everywhere. crap stacked upon more crap. I'm good at that. I collect crap then I store it.

it feels awesome to be working again. my new project is fantastic and I'm diggin' it. it's pretty damn creative and interesting. but when one is working one is not unpacking or painting or repainting. the money will be good though - we sooooo need it. IVF stims start in less than 2 weeks. b's first paycheck as a fellow came on friday and it is considerably smaller than what we are used to. nothing like working harder and having more responsibility and making less. american express is really loving me right now. as we slip deeper into infertility dept all I have to show for it is an overflowing sharps container, 2 leftover cartridges of follistim and an empty uterus.

finally!

a male infertile that blogs. it's "refreshing." it's sad (of course.) it's a totally different point of view. it's about time.

check out this particular and very touching post. welcome to the vortex of doom...

thank you frank!

a "fresh" start

huh?

I met with my new "infertility" acupuncturist. oh man. he is a far cry from angela. I asked around (the 3 people I've met) and his name kept coming up as being the best (or maybe the ONLY) acupuncturist in town. he did say he had a few IVF patients from the yale clinic. after some more detailed discussions, a few turned into 1 - ONE! as far as I know this patient is undergoing acupuncture for sciatica relief.

"do you every experience bouts of anger?"

"it's funny you should ask that." the pug is torturing me. since the move he has yet to find any spots worthy of his pee and poop. what a dope. he constantly lifts his leg and then decides he'd rather move on to find a better, more desirable tree to pee on. he loves to relieve himself at the dog park though. he pooped there 3 times yesterday! so now he won't go in the morning or at night and just holds it until the 5 pm dog park walk. he holds it!!!! if we are lucky I'll get a tablespoon out of him. dopey.

this morning the heat and humidity were painful. the pug had consumed a lot of water last night and I knew he had to go. the frenchie (panting heavily after 30 seconds outside) was "empty" in a matter of moments. "good girl pookie." the pug, as always, dragged the three of us up and down the streets of new haven (in the scorching sun mind you) searching for "the spot." the elusive spot. it was so friggin' hot I could feel the sweat literally running down the back of my legs. poor lulu was struggling to breath and had to be carried. I carried her! and the pug - sniff, sniff, sniff, snort, sniff - NOTHING!

oh...... I experienced a bout of anger. I wanted to kill him (well not really.) and it cannot be healthy for his kidneys waiting every 24 hours to pee. but what do you do? I tried rewarding him with treats but he is a pug. if he knows I have food all he does is walk 3 steps, stare at me, walk 3 steps, stare...

"pee dammit! just pee for crying out loud! this majestic oak tree is perfect! that beautiful birch tree is an awesome spot! these hosta plants couldn't be better! peeeeee please!"

it was nice while it lasted

b's fellowship has kicked in. those 2 weeks post residency that he wasn't working were such a luxury. now I am all alone left to unpack and organize, deal with cranky contractor/plummer/electrician, and tend to all the other assorted challenging home owner responsibilities. we were initially told he could take call from home. well that was a blatant lie. even post-call b doesn't get home until late the next day. I cannot possibly paint this entire place, hang curtains and go through IVF #3 without his assistance. he better be up front and honest with his attendings straight away before the days of ER and ET arrive. they'll be here before you know it. "so sorry. no cardiac surgery for you! I need to have my eggs retrieved!"

we had dinner the other night with a fellow resident from westchester. he is also now technically a fellow. so I guess we had dinner with a fellow fellow. I was all excited for a new and instant friend - his wife. the anesthesiologist had recently moved up here as well. they brought their 15 month old daughter (very cute and sweet) to dinner AND they mentioned in passing that they were pregnant. no ordinary pregnancy. an unplanned pregnancy - a mistake goddammit! the wife didn't even know how far along she was. based on her stats I informed her she was probably due the second week in march. she looked at me like I was totally nutty. how could I possibly know that? I just suffered through a failed IVF missy. oh, I know these things.

I cannot be friends with a pregnant lady right now. especially one who doesn't want to be pregnant. our friendship was certainly short and sweet. at least my meal was yummy.

where's the "welcome" casserole?

the neighbors so far kinda suck. our contractor/plummer/electrician was hoping to access the troubled pipes through kind neighbor 16's apartment. we discovered their bathroom is renovated with the exception of our shared shower wall. "so let let guy in please!" nope. kind neighbor 16 literally hung up on our contractor/plummer/electrician. HUNG UP!

with the move I brought 7 containers filled with assorted plants and flowers. they are the talk of the new hood so I hear. the "condo president" was so impressed that he asked if I could possibly plant the giant empty planter in front of our units. fine. I have nothing better to do, right? I went to home depot, yet again, and spent $50 on whatever was on sale. while up to my elbows in dirt, peatmoss and perlite our fellow condo owners walked right by with no acknowledgment of what I was doing. one lady was clearly annoyed by the dogs which were tied to our front door. Come ON! a simple "hey, that looks nice." or " thanks for taking care of that eyesore." nada!

neighbor 22 was so bold as to ask b how much we spent on our unit. what? I figure the next time I run into her I will ask her what her salary is after taxes. she saw b come home from work wearing scrubs and proceeded to follow him and ask for medical advice. now THAT has got to stop. we are not operating a free clinic here. the doctor is NOT in!

the rest of the neighbors continue to stop, stare and linger right in front of our windows. it's very creepy. when will the novelty of being "new" wear off?

blog title change

I am totally exhausted and my back hurts like bloody hell.

my $200 le klint hanging lamp was totally crushed in the move (thanks to b's brilliant packing skills. thank god he has other talents.) our "new" shower is leaking into the neighbor's renovated bathroom. yikes! an emergency plummer is needed. at this point we need to go through the ceiling in order to address the disaster. THEN b literally put his foot through the neighbor's floor (ultimately the kitchen ceiling) while discussing the leaking "new" shower. AND I cannot seem to make any headway in the unpacking. I am constantly having to clean up stinky pug vomit. chilli insists on puking repeatedly on his bed, on our couch, and in random spots (under our bed and on the stairs) throughout the apartment.

a change in my blog description is a must. I no longer knit.

a not so private struggle with infertility (x2) and other random thoughts on home ownership and dogs

the burbs

we just discovered that our little condo community is mostly chinese. our neighbors have really welcomed DH (even though he is korean.) we learned that many of the young families here bring their parents over from china to take care of the children. I have yet to encounter anyone who speaks english. I think the elders fear/avoid me because of our 2 very ferocious (and small and gassy and bagel obsessed) dogs. I don't feel very welcome.

I came home yesterday (after tracking down the elusive trader joes) to find a large blow-up pool right in front of our unit. there must have been 5 or 6 small children splashing around and screaming with joy. they were all very cute and so happy. I couldn't help but imagine our own child playing in the pool with all the little neighbors. I immediately went inside, turned on the ac to drown (?) out the noise, and put a sheet in the window to block the view.

last night the pregnant woman in the returns line at home depot made me cry. she must have been close to 8 months pregnant and she looked great. I don't like being surrounded by all this fertility. why didn't b apply for a fellowship in nyc? the suburbs equal children. and lots of them.

post lobster

we have returned. back to the filth of incomplete home renovations, boxes of hastily packed junk and a massive "to do" list. the contractor/plummer/electrician is nowhere to be found. the heat and humidity are dreadful (our fans are far away in a westchester storage unit.) AND I have still yet to find a grocery store that is not 3 towns away. a fridge with $6 organic 100% cranberry juice and follistim cartridges isn't going to cut it.

I cannot even shower. I am waiting for an important call from dr s. after a ton of thought and many tears I decided to postpone our next IVF. there is too much going on at the moment and my frame of mind couldn't be further away from brown rice, ultrasounds and shooting up. emotionally and physically I am not prepared for a july cycle. we are taking a month off. a july IVF could never in a million years possibly give us positive results. I am defeated even before I start.

actually it is kind of nice to feel "human" again. I'm enjoying being normal for the time being. once we get a bit settled and I start working again I hope to feel more confident for round 2. or is it round 3? anyway, the lobster in maine was truly awesome. as usual I slipped into "seagull mode" and attacked everyone's leftover carcasses in search of undiscovered morsels of meat. for a vegetarian that's pretty hardcore. b once said he has never seen me happier than when I have a lobsta in front of me. now I'm wicked hungry.

home sweet new home

today is saturday 23 june. 5:45 pm. I just now had my first shower since thursday 7 am. the move was looong and haaard. we finally have hot water and I can shove aside some boxes of crap and sit on the couch and relax for 5 minutes. my back hurts.

my diet has gone to shit. very few quality greens, too much wine, wheat, cheese... ughhh. new haven is all about the pizza. my sister L, nephew B, and DH and I had a pizza last night with, no joke, mashed potatoes on top. it rocked! I need to get my post-move act together to gear up for the next round of IVF.

I am dead tired and I still need to get a bag ready for our trip home to maine tomorrow. I guess all I can really pack is my toothbrush. boxes of clothing are god knows where. at least the drive north is a bit shorter from our new address. what's the first thing I'll do when I get "downeast?" a loooooong deep breath of ocean air... and then a giant 2 lb. hardshell lobster. now we're talkin'.

oh, the horror

my mourning period has been cut short. our apartment is upsidedown and literally separated into hundreds of boxes. boxes that were packed in an unhappy and depressed frenzy. we move tomorrow. shit. we move into an apartment mid renovation. we can only hope the bathroom is complete and functioning. we have house guests arriving the next day. oh, and the french bulldog has bad diarrhea and it is raining outside.

OFFICE (box # 1,627)
- epson printer
- xmas throw rug
- cocktail napkins
- x-ray (HSG of blocked tubes)

I anticipate hardcore unpacking anger. "where the hell are the tiffany champagne flutes from the wedding? simple. they are in the box with the bedroom lampshades, the silver birkenstocks, and the fedex envelopes." nice.

we met with dr s yesterday to talk about our/my failed IVF. she would really like for us to try again. again? really? the embryos were actually pretty decent quality but there just weren't enough of them. her plan of action is a different protocol with the addition of clomid and lupron. b and I are pretty firm on doing co-culture as well. we will find out today if that decadent procedure can be fit into their july schedule.

dr s had an interesting point of view. "this is the first "real" time ever that the two of you "tried" to get pregnant." she's right. the first time bypassing the tubal problems and addressing the sperm issues. it was the first time in history that it could have been possible. you can't throw in the towel after one sincere and honest attempt.

so let's plant some wheatgrass, find a new haven acupuncturist, and start again. new haven to nyc is a long trek. am I up for it?

absolutely.

the day after

what happened?! my eyes are incredibly swollen this morning. I was much happier asleep. why did the man with the baby twins have to talk to me during my dog walk? they were IVF twins no doubt. "shooo! go away. leave me alone please."

where do you turn when one of the best (if not the best) IF clinics in the world fails you? (my turn to fingerpoint.) these guys at cornell are geniuses so what the hell?

how do you tell the huge number of people that have been rooting for you that the IVF didn't work? infertility is already an awkward topic and hard to talk about.

IVF is incredibly difficult -- torture really. the efforts completely take over all aspects of your life. you work sooooo hard emotionally and logistically and put your body through sooooo much to hopefully get to the point where you are able to hold a photo of your potential child/children. the picture is so satisfying, so sweet -- like an award of achievement. the infertility oscar. "look! this is really possible! you guys did it!" then the future and optimism are painfully ripped out of you with a 5 second blood test and phone call. "I'm sorry." the nurse was very kind and she seemed genuinely sad. I couldn't utter a single word.

I am heartbroken. I am pissed that we are being denied what so many people take for granted. take for granted!

and I do know that I have many wonderful things to be thankful for and happy about. I have an amazing family, fantastic friends, and a husband I adore. "things" have really clicked for us during this last year. we've been "tested" constantly and we learned a ton and ultimately grew closer. the good in my life was even more evident when I was bedridden after the ET. I have not lost perspective and I recognize all the great in my life. but it is the "loss" -- the obvious loss. and the loss of our dream. this is not about not getting what we want. we are battling instict as well.

a biological child. a "luxery item" that just seems so out of our reach. that hurts.

the call

negative.

too upset to speak (or even function properly.)

infertile blind date

we had breakfast after my 7 am b/w. she is a really nice girl making twiglet. we actually "met" through our IF blogs. she lives in LA and was here in nyc for a couple days on business. I was terribly depressing company. all gloom and doom. I don't think she'll call back for a second date. this has been my state ever since my negative home pg test on monday. the recent cramping is all too familiar. god! I was so optimitic last week! it felt good to be positive for a change. b and I had a concrete reason (2 of them) to have hope to expect our very own miracle - EDD, my mother's birthday. the universe is terribly cruel. this fucking sucks!

my beta is in 2 days. there really is no need to go. driving 40 miles for the inevitable bad news is just adding insult to injury. the spotting has gone from what one can expect in the 2ww to something more substantial. when I spoke to b tonight I couldn't even tell him. he has been so happy these days. what's even worse than hearing the IVF didn't work is telling b the bad news. I feel like a failure on so many levels. what the fuck went wrong?

I think I am going to puke.

drive-by shooting

DH is on call. it's 8:45 pm and my progesterone shot is due in 15 minutes. I pack my ziplock baggy with all my drug paraphernalia. PIO, check. alcohol swabs, check. syringe, check. 22G 1 1/2 needle, check. car keys, check.

I usually meet b in hospital but he's busy tonight. I pull into the main entrance, park by the front door and page him. our secret code is 111 - "I'm here." while I sit and wait I observe all the hospital activity. crutches, flowers, lots of families. there he his looking all handsome in his sparkling white, impeccably pressed lab coat. it's pretty obvious I don't do his laundry. engine still running, he jumps in, qives a quick kiss and prepares the goods. I get out of the car, run around to the passenger side, pull down my pants and "OUCH! ya' got me!" we can only hope that my bruised, puffy, naked ass didn't ruin someone's meal in the hospital cafeteria. so sorry.

relief

I don't tiptoe around the house anymore and I finally feel ok about peeing. I no longer need the assistance of the bathroom faucet running full blast in order to empty my reluctant bladder. the first few days after ET I was so terrified and convinced that I would pee the embies out. dumb, I know. borderline idiotic even.

"do you really think your doctor put the embryos in your bladder?"

oh my.

now who sounds like the bigger dope? DH is awfully bright but his question concerns me a tad bit. yikes.

FRAGILE handle with care

packing sucks! I am tired. I am hot. I am a total nervous nelly. I've had a constant lingering ache (not cramp) on my left side since yesterday and it concerns me. my left ovary was the hardworking and cooperative ovary. it actually bothered me all through my stims. you'd think a week post ER I would feel back to "normal." what is normal these days anyway? I called my RE and she is out today goofin' off. an on-call fellow rang me back.

"are you doubled-over in pain?"
"no."
"your estrogen and progesterone levels seem fine. it's probably not torsion."...(what's torsion?)
"should I worry?"
"cramping is normal."...(it's an ache.)
"so I should ignore it?"
"don't ignore it."
"ok. thanks for calling."

what the hell did we just talk about? that conversation was as productive as my right ovary.

of course my little head (with ancient ratty haircut and lacking professional "sun kissed" highlights) has been spinning. a person my age and with my tubal surgery history has a 20-50% chance of ectopic. crap. if it's not one thing to worry about it's another. the 2ww should really be the 2www. the 2 week wait and worry.

6dpER (6dpo) or 3dpET

I can say I'm officially in the 2ww. FINALLY! I have only read about what it must be like to be in this position. the waiting. oh, the waiting. that's all we IVF/IUI gals do. wait. and wait... I've been counting days and anticipating this moment since my Dx in january. it's torture! this whole experience is torture.

being bedridden is very difficult if you are not feeling sickly. I had all these grand plans of what I would accomplish these last few days. I tell you something. doing nothing is exhausting.

so here they are right before the day 3 tranfer. little one left and little one right. people actually have symptoms at this point. I feel nothing but residual ER cramping and nauseating high level anxiety. but if I brush my teeth long and hard enough I can make my gums bleed (a typical early pg sign.) it would be nice to have some sort of "symptom" to hold on to to give us some hope.

we did it!

actually, cornell did it. 2 embies transfered! 1 7 cell and 1 13 cell. stay tuned! pictures coming soon!

IVFcam

what a cool idea. b thought of this when we were discussing our 2 embryos that are currently growing/dividing in a petri dish on the upper east side of manhattan. 2 out of the 4 fertilized. 1 was immature and the 3rd, for whatever reason, decided not to fertilize. so we have 2! a live IVFcam would be awesome. divide baby divide!

I couldn't sleep a wink last night. I was petrified. are the eggs healthy? are they too old? did any fertilize? are b's swimmers and my eggs compatible? would they dig each other? oh, the thoughts going through my little head. I knew we would get "the call" sometime between 10 am and 1 pm. I figured the closer the call was to 10 the better the news would be. a call at 12:45 could only mean no embryos. the woman ringing everyone up saves the worst for last, right? I was up at 7:45 waiting by my phone(s). I even carried them with me to the bathroom. it rang at 10:40. whew. the news must be positive.

after calling b and my family I rang my acupuncturist. she has 3 possibly 4 transfers on monday. this means 4 of us had successful ERs on friday -- the full moon. she has never experienced so many transfer sessions in one day. I will have a one hour appointment before the transfer and then she will come to my home post transfer for another set of needles. she is following the same protocol that was published in that infamous article. the study that had amazing results when adding acupuncture before and after embryo transfer. then I will be bedridden for 2 days. thank god for professional dog walkers.

2 little embryos. the potential for 2 little lives that are just beginning. what a miracle this would be.

the moon is full

"The moon affects water, tides, our bodily fluids and the sap in plants, and for centuries planting and harvesting have been guided by the moon. The moon has also long been associated with women, magic and fertility."

"The phases of the Moon relate to the relation between the Sun and the Moon with the point of view of the land. In the feminine cycle, the Full Moon corresponds to the ovulation. It is the period of fertility, of fullness, where it has the possibility to generate life. In agriculture, the Full Moon marks the moment of the harvest for medicinal plants and it also marks the time to sow fruitful trees."

4 eggs retrieved today. I am tired and crampy at the moment but I do feel much better than expected. and no vomiting or nausea! woo hoo! it is so friggin' hot and humid though. I was excited to take b's car into the city this morning because he has functioning air conditioning. it functioned for about 5 minutes only. and we got a $65 parking ticket. oh well. another unexpected dip into our ever-dwindling IVF fund.

4 tiny eggs. we find out in the morning how many, if any, fertilized. it is a strange feeling thinking that possibly the begining of our little family is growing in a petri dish at this very moment. it's indeed possible. "stay positive! it only takes one." I'm already feeling protective, maternal. no doubt our cells are in the best hands and are getting great care.

"the moon is full and gorgeous! cornell work your magic! grow and multiply tiny cells! grow!"

this is it

egg retrieval time. friday 7 am nyc. 4 follicles (if we are lucky.) but we got ourselves a full moon! I've put my fertility in the hands of the geniuses at cornell and the celestial calendar.

this week has been rough. dead tired and super weepy. those 7 am daily appointments in the city are exhausting. hike, train, subway, walk, board "spaceship," wait, bloodwork, wait, ultrasound, walk, subway, train, hike. then have breakfast and start my day.

I am not going to talk about my anxiety. 4 follicles is painfully disappointing. why won't my body respond to the meds? why, why, WHY?! women talk about producing 20 even 30 eggs and I am lucky if I have 4 for crying out loud. speaking of crying... my 6:30 am appointment this morning included a pre-op instructional class. there I was all teary while listening to the IVF nurse ramble on and on about medrol and tetracyclene. I couldn't hold back and had to look away. nobody else was crying. how come I have all the symptoms of my meds but they are not working?

last night was b's graduation dinner. 4 chief surgery residents were honored. I was so proud of b. he looked so cute and happy standing up front and having his photo taken. he had his wedding face on (and his wedding cufflinks.) the most amazing moment of the evening was when the chairman spoke to the residents. he talked about the hectic and very demanding life of a surgeon. he said to be mindful of the most important thing about surgery - "your family."

"your son will never come home from school one day and ask how many bowel resections you did that week."

I was practically sobbing.

24 may 07

I survived. barely. after 210 miles on my subaru, no proper ac in the car, 3 sets of needles, a condo closing, holiday traffic on 95 in new haven, finding a tenant for broken lease, and a dreaded birthday, I was able to enjoy a glass of champagne and scrumptious chocolate cake (weighed down heavily with far too many candles.) man, I'm old. let me rephrase that. man, my eggs are old.

cornell called with some grim news. my u/s sheduled for today was switched for sunday. that sucks. this means my E2 is still low. we need to reach 200 before they consider checking out the progress (if any) of my ovaries. I think I feel a little cramping this morning. please please please! wake up dammit! you've got a job to do! even if I only have 1 simple follicle I am going for it. this is it. our only try. with that being said, I am having a giant piece of 7 layer chocolate cake for breakfast. a layer celebrating each healthy, 8-cell embryo that we are going to have next week. now THAT would be a fantastic birthday gift.

we can only hope.

((yawn))

I am sooooo tired all of the time now. sleepidy sleep sleeps. I wasted a beautiful sunday afternoon being unconscious on our fantastic new sheets. although I don't even feel like I have slept at all. it's crazy. my acupuncturist blames my high dose of meds and I really need to listen to what my body is telling me. my ovaries are working hard at the moment and I need the rest. all I have to say in return is that they better deliver this time.

how does one rest while working, packing to move, traveling to daily appointments, trying to rent current apartment, trying to avoid lawsuit from current landlord because of broken lease, dealing with contractor, and fighting with idiot mortgage broker and his idiotic staff. all by my lonesome. I thought marriage was a partnership? I guess it would be difficult for b to battle it out with bully landlord while trying to cut out a chunk of someone's lung. that's what was on his plate today. lung chunk removal. nice.

tomorrow is closing day. after 1 1/2 hour round trip to RE for 1 minute of b/w we will head up 1 1/2 hour north to new haven for the final walk thru and official signing of the sales contract. man, just thinking about that is exhausting. ((yawn))

two words. wow!

twice

wow! my FSH is 2.7! thank you estrogen patches AND wheatgrass!

wow! cornell is where it's at! I had my first appointment there this morning at 7 am. nothing like waking up at 4:15 on a saturday, showering, walking the dogs, and treking into manhattan in the dark. the train was packed though. some guy was actually hitting on me at 6 am. how weird is that? little did he know that I was on my way to a (not a, "THE") fertility clinic. "hi, nice to meet you. I'm on a mission now to get knocked up. beat it."

it was like a spaceship. the place was super high-tech and impeccably designed. there are computers in every room. my exam and u/s results were input by a nurse in real time at a keyboard by my feet. the RE knew all about me right off the bat. unlike the "other place" that didn't know about my missing tubes and scheduled me for an IUI. dopes. the most impressive thing is that I finally have a doctor that has an area in the exam room to place my clothes and expensive bag that I cannot afford. what a concept! a spot for your belongings!

and... everyone was pleasant and nice. another shocker. the place was spotless. AND all the magazine were current. dr k had only one issue of people magazine that I was forced to suffer through every time I was there (If you were lucky enough to snag it.) it was the golden globes issue from january. that should have been a big old red flag.

I always chuckle now when the nurse calls out my name in the waiting room. "mrs w?" (I now sport a korean surname since my nuptuals last september.) people are always a tad bit shocked when tall blondie stands up. it makes me think of that seinfeld episode when jerry meets donna chang over the phone. he gets all excited about the idea of dating an asian woman but is disappointed when a nice caucasian girl shows up. the inevitable double-takes from the nursing staff are comical.

and the results are in (not idol related)

blahhh. I am now existing with a constant low-grade nausea. b thinks it's caused by the meds as well as the lack of meds (aka antidepressant withdrawal.) I feel very out of sorts and it's difficult to stay focused. my work these days has been suffering big time. I wish I could be honest with my clients. yeah right. "I'm so sorry I spelled the brand name wrong on the packaging. kindly keep in mind those three simple letters I taught you. I, V, F ."

and I cannot button my pants. bloat, injection soreness, and the fear of a dislocated patch. it's nice to be able to work from home in my undies. unattractive, but nice. "hark! is that the doorbell?"

b had his follow-up with dr urologist. come to find out he has a genentic disorder that is affecting his swimmers. it is something that he would no doubt pass down to our son if we were to have one. this concerns dr urologist and he is suggesting PGD, heavily. any son of ours would most likely be completely infertile. with PGD they would only select girl embryos to tranfer. well you know what? that's not going to happen. at this point we don't even know if I will respond to my new and improved protocol and get any eggs to fertilize. these people are talking about poking around and editing our embryos. we decided if the genetic issues were more "serious" we would consider continuing the conversation. this whole thing sucks but there is no guarantee a son would be 100% infertile. like anything IVF related, there are no guarantees.

mother's day

the pug surprised me with a decorative bag attached to his collar. "the kids" got me a cute (and very small) pajama set and a card with a photo of a dog apologizing for being a pain in the ass. it couldn't be more appropriate -- the card that is. it's nice to think that DH imagines me as a tiny person. it's sweet but not very perceptive. for dinner he took me out for thai food. hey! where did he get that extra cash?

aside from the generous gifts and fantastic weather the day was a little sad. of course it was sad. there were mothers everywhere! but in my case, my mom has passed away, the infertility treatments failed me and b's mom hates me. "mom" is a very sensitive subject around here. why can't there be a day to celebrate those who are trying with all their power to be mothers? "infertile's day." a day to recognize those who are unhappy and struggling with the heartache, all the waiting, the hormonal assaults! shit! we have a secretary's day! it's the infertiles that live in silence and isolation that really need a kind note or tulips to show support (and of course a pleasant meal out.) I can see it now. hallmark. "to my lovely wife. thanks for shooting up twice a day and tolerating the unpleasant bloating and all the menopur inspired breakdowns. Happy Infertile's Day! love ya!"

we're off and running! actually, it's more like a slow, lumbering stroll when you have a french bulldog in tow. I applied my first estrogen patch yesterday, mother's day, for IVF #2. my ganirelix injections begin tonight at 7 pm. dr s took me off my antidepressant. oh, joy.

what a day!

woke up this morning and my car was dead. crap. b and I tried to jump start it (thank god he was post call) and of course that didn't work. I'll say it again, crap. b asked about the amount of gas I had in the tank. I had to confess that I had been driving around all day yesterday on empty. dead car. my fault.

we filled up the neon plastic container at the local station. I went out of my way to not go to exxon. I am still furious with them for not taking responsibility for the valdez oil spill years ago. selfish bastards. despicable company.

while the attendant was getting us our change the guy next to us proceeded to drive away with the hose still in his car. everyone started screaming and the guy kept on going and tore the hose right out of the machine. what a boob.

even with $8.92 worth of gas in the car it still would not start. we finally got it running after we jumped it a second time. whew. finally. I then raced off to acupuncture at top speed.

my session was rudely interupted by a call from my RE. we talked about her IVF nurse repeatedly not getting the correct information to me. it either comes too late or not at all. you really have to be on top of your own care with this one. I am pissed now because it is most likely too late for a co-culture. bad IVF nurse. BAD!

when I got to the pharmacy to finally pick up my meds that dumbass IVF nurse forgot to call in, I noticed my lights did not and could not go out on my car. ah hah! it wasn't the driving on empty. it's the lights!

"hi dan!" "HEY P!" I love my pharmacist. I wish he was my IVF nurse. I got all teary when he handed me not 1, but 2 bags of meds. I am getting that scared feeling all over again. scared of being terribly disappointed. scared of what might "not" happen.

I then called b in a panic. he made an emergency appointment at the new local subaru dealer. I had to see someone asap because if I turned my car off the battery would die again. come to find out, when I had my car washed yesterday, someone hit a hidden switch (that I didn't know existed) that turned on the lights. the subaru guy said he sees this everyday. I think subaru needs a bit of a redesign to address this everyday problem. duh.

I got home just in time to get my precious meds into the fridge. it was after all our first real hot and humid day. come to find out the ac in my car doesn't work. is there some sort of mysterious and hidden cooling switch I don't know about?

well said.

words from a fellow infertile

smile for the camera!

I got the surge! twice! my luteinizing hormone surge that I have been patiently waiting for.

nice!

the honest truth

I am completely irritated with DH right now. he is currently spending some "quality" time with his mother out in illinois. of course she had to comment (unfavorably) on the huge assortment of vitamins and herbs that b is traveling with. each bottle has its own role in helping produce more and better quality swimmers. there were a good 10 or so bottles packed in the suitcase.

"so what did your mom have to say about your situation and challenges?" I asked. "nothing. I didn't tell her."

brilliant. now his mother has one more reason to despise me. for god's sake! even if I was in tip top shape reproductively we would still being going down this IVF path. even if I produced 50 high quality eggs on my own each and every month, IVF with ICSI and AH would still be in our cards. NOW, I (me and only me) am the infertile one who cannot give the MIL grandchildren. thanks b, for making things clear in your mother's mind. thanks for adding fuel to the already blazing fire.

it is a terrible feeling knowing how much someone dislikes you. I am not from MIL's homeland and I cannot change that. I don't go to church and that's my choice. I have a hundred reasons not to have organized religion a part of my life. these crazed and extreme christians I believe are a problem in our country. b's mother made it rather clear to all her friends and family how much she was against me and ultimately our marriage. she told me that she would not love me until I started going to church. nice, casual, holiday chit chat at the dining room table. that thanksgiving I went insane preparing and cooking an entire meal for her and her family. I cooked a fucking turkey and I don't even eat meat! I did it for b and I did it for her out of respect. it's odd, when I was little and went to sunday school I don't recall jesus being so hateful and judgmental. I don't know what bible she's reading. it's that kind of distorted thinking that makes religion really undesirable and something to fear. she never gave me a chance to show that I am a good person and a loving and supportive wife to her son. I was doomed from the start because I don't pray before dinner.

so here I am now, damaged goods, broken, wrong yet again, and unable to produce a grandchild. I'm the one responsible. that's icing on the devil's foodcake. no matter what I do or how hard I try, I will never be good enough or accepted. it sucks.

jenny craig

I'm getting pudgy. gross.

I have strict orders to eat 3 meals a day and healthy snacks in between. before trouble TTC I very rarely ate lunch. sure, I would now and then nibble on a muffin or bagel after my 3 cups of morning coffee. I was also a fan of the occassional swiss cheese and tomato on a roll after knitting class. when I am deep into a project I tend to forget to eat. this explains the size small wedding dress (I'm 5' 8".) this explains my very low glucose level.

"food as medicine" is my new mantra. as if the daily wheatgrass is not brutal enough, I subject myself to a hearty whey protein shake made with rice milk. it's jam packed with frozen fruit, gary null's red stuff, flax seed, and an entire banana. I gag when it goes down with the fear it may come back up to haunt me. the last time I ate a banana was when I vomited all over my cousin's driveway in wisconsin right before going to church. I think I was 10. let's blame the banana/church association for the lack of religion in my life. yeah, that's it. the banana vomit.

in addition to eating CONSTANTLY, I swallow, no joke, 30 pills a day! thirty! sometimes 31 or 32 if I should have a headache from taking all those pills and shoving raw kale down my throat.

why can't my body function normally? I treat it now with complete and total respect. maybe it was all those late nights I spent in dive bars in the east village drinking pints and listening to firehose, the cult, alice in chains, depeche mode, pavement, the jam, tom waits, and yo la tengo on the jukebox. fond memories (from what I can remember.) youth -- I'm afraid I took my health for granted and I didn't really take good care of myself. another lesson learned too late in life. lesson # 15,782.

ooo la la

man, is he cute or what? and so very sweet. he has beautiful dark skin and very, VERY light brown eyes. the kind that are hard to look at actually. I see him almost every single day at the bar. "the usual hun?" please. he gives me my shot and a slice of lemon. after I throw down the shot and torture myself with the lemon (YIKES) I sit and chat with him for a bit. he probably wonders what is wrong with me -- coming in every single day. he must think I have serious issues.

I do have serious issues. this infertility stuff is really getting to me. I am now back to POAS every day twice a day. I cannot risk missing my surge this month. the estrogen patches and ganirelex injections begin 10 days after the LH surge. IVF #2 officially starts at that point. here we go again. am I ready? is b ready to deal with the hormonal tears and mood swings? and I'm not just talking about him. maybe he should stay in chicago. I really miss him but I think he is safer there. I take that back. I need him here! shit, we have our closing coming up in a couple of weeks. we need to find a contractor. we need to gut and rebuild the bathroom. we need to clean and paint. we need to PACK! where the hell is he?

moving and IVF? god help me. I may just have to increase my daily wheatgrass habit at the juicebar because of all the stresses on the horizon. "the usual hun?" yes, please. but make it a double from now on.

made ya think? kooky!

I started this as an outlet to express the huge assortment of feelings and emotions (many hormone induced) that come along with an IF Dx (x2). my acupuncturist "a" encouraged me to do this as long as I kept a "gratitude journal" as well. no argument there when she said we have a lot to be thankful for. so every night I literally scribble, no doubt illegibly, a few thoughts in my little spiral notebook by my bed. it helps to recognize and remember all the good and great things that I have in my life. and I have a lot of them.

I do TTC with DH through IVF with AMA and a MF for a BFP entirely for myself as a kind of virtual therapy. I believe 99% of my visitors are experiencing their own infertility nightmares. I feel like I know them but have no idea who they are. sadly, there are many of us out there.

so...let me know who you are. I'm curious. leave me a comment. send me your blog. remember, misery loves company.

my assignment now, as a nominee, is to nominate 5 blogs that make me think for the thinking blogger award. here they are –

making twiglet was awfully kind to mention me. I enjoy her blog because she is always so hopeful and optimistic in her views. her perspective is refreshing (and foreign) to me. she's a good kid and I hope she gets her BFP very soon. it's funny, she is not the only one to use the words "raw" and "painful" when describing my blog. yikes. remember people! I do have a gratitude journal! and I don't even listen to the smiths anymore!

stirrup queens and sperm palace jesters is also a blog I frequent. it is cleverly written by 2 writers who have overcome infertility and are now working on a book to educate the non-infertile world. it is cool site and you could literally spend hours there poking around. I actually have a few posts from my downer of a blog in their archive.

flotsam, infertility sucks! and a little pregnant are all very funny and thoroughly entertaining. it goes to show you it is possible to find a tad bit of humor in all of this infertility crap. when you feel like hell a lot of the time a good chuckle is always a nice change.

the song

there is one particular and lovely song that when we hear it, we think of my mother. it is a song that she wanted a soloist to sing at the church before she was to be buried. it is a song that will forever make us think of her. it is a song that makes me cry.

the hours after my wedding were all about changing into jeans, beer, pizza, and "hanging out" under the stars. my nephew brought a stereo outside to add to the post-reception party. on goes the radio, on comes "the song." we all look at each other. I know my mother was present on my wedding day. I have a photo of a single butterfly hovering over our heads during the vows to prove it.

my life BHSG (Before HSG) was so incredibly different. on my way to the radiologist to get that excruciating exam that changed my life, I heard the song on the radio. I hadn't heard it since my wedding day in september. I pulled into the parking lot and immediately became very emotional. I found a parking spot and sat there until the song ended. I headed into my exam convinced that everything would be "ok."

this brings me that horrible 7 am saturday appointment that b and I recently experienced. we got off the elevator on the 10th floor of 59th and madison and walked into my ex-RE's office. and there it was. the song.

I signed us in and then took a seat next to b. I sat there all teary eyed and literally physically shaking until the song ended. again, I headed into my exam convinced that everything would be "ok."

we all know things didn't turn out ok. in hindsight I believe the song was a powerful message of comfort. a message of support. regardless of the outcome, my mother was there for me during some of the worst days of this journey.

k1, p2, yo, yo, k1, p2, bind off

I haven't seen these letter/number combinations in a very long time. to be honest, I don't miss it that much -- knitting. I do though miss my tuesday class comrades. my little head is just too consumed with other things at the moment. god forbid if I dropped a stitch or had to take out a few rows, I would no doubt go "over the edge." the thing is with knitting, when a project is going well, it's enjoyable, satisfying and almost therapeutic. BUT, if I should encounter a mistake in a pattern or interpret specific instructions incorrectly, the hobby is incredibly stressful. no fun.

these days I seem to spend most of my evenings reading magazines and fiction that is a little more on the lighter side (in addition to my ever-popular IF books.) I just suffered through "pug hill" which was actually a total waste of my time. back in the day I used to bring chilli up to pug hill in central park. those trips were a riot! on some sundays there could be close to 20 pugs. an entire herd! I miss those days. I miss manhattan. I miss the person I used to be before I was sucked deeply into the world of infertility (x2).

no tv. no radio. no thanks.

I have removed myself from all media. I cannot take anymore coverage of "the shooting." I feel very similar to the way I felt when I lived in nyc and watched the second tower crumble right before my eyes. the sadness is too much. I am only listening to my ipod (but not the smiths.)

what is wrong with this country?! the whole idea of being able to casually stroll into a store and buy 2 handguns and a ton of ammunition is fucked up. I can guarantee you 100% that the massacre would not have happened if guns were not purchased like a turkey sandwich. guns are designed for ONE purpose only. to kill. we don't purchase them to use as paperweights. we don't purchase them for decoration. "they guy looked normal." said the gun salesman. it's comforting to know some gun seller is making these judgment calls and looking out for us. do you think he is sleeping well these days? "he didn't have a criminal record." yes, but now he is going down in history for a despicable crime because you sold him guns. you assisted a criminal.

I tortured myself by watching some backwoods hillbilly on tv bitch and moan about our current "strict gun laws." he said if more students had owned guns then the shooter would have been stopped. are you joking?! that's your brilliant solution? give everyone a firearm! a bullet free-for-all! nice. take it easy there dirty harry.

I blame our jackass president. it is time for him to get his head out of his ass and see the big picture of the state of our world. we are very fragile right now and enough is enough. the right to bear arms has been overly abused and then some. we need improved legislation that is relevant in this day and age. years ago I heard gun shots one sunny, spring afternoon while I was working in fantastically hip and fashionable soho. an angry (normal looking) man stormed into a muffin shop and started shooting. a bakery that makes muffins! he killed 3 people. I will never forget the sickening sound of all those bullets.

the love boat

how come 3 major people in my life went on holiday the same week? as a result, all hell broke loose. were they all hanging out drinking tequila shots on some festive cruise ship down in mexico? hola muchachos! timing is bad!

dr k. my RE. not around during my IVF stims. not around to tell me the cycle was cancelled. not around to explain why the cycle was cancelled. I sent him a wicked email yesterday saying exactly this. "just to let you know, our IVF was cancelled over a week ago." he responded that he was in shock that nobody followed up with a phone call. I think that nobody is him. finger pointing! busted!

harry. my mortgage broker. he and I had long conversations (plural) concerning b's and my financial challenges. harry knew about the identity theft. harry knew about b living off of credit cards during medical school and repossessed cars. harry knew the $12,000+ on my amex last month was for IVF. the bastard knew all the tragic details of our current finances. the bastard was even made aware of my elevated FSH. I told him my life story. none of this was communicated to his staff before he left. after he had proposed a fantastic interest rate including a yale discount, his ship sailed. the dumbass that took over my account knew nothing about the deal harry and I worked out. it was like our conversations never existed. harry is gone. rates go up. I had to start from scratch and I barely qualify at all for any loan at this point.

david. my finacial advisor. drinking tequila shots on some festive cruise ship down in mexico with harry and dr k. not good timing. NOW, right at this moment, is when I need some serious advising! where the hell is everybody?

baby penguins

we just recently watched "the march of the penguins." it is a very sweet and beautiful movie that everyone should rent. I was fascinated by how each monogamous bird couple cherishes their egg -- their child. you actually witness "bird grief" when a couple accidentally loses their one and only egg to the frozen tundra. they are visibly sad and it's heartbreaking. another mother lost her egg and she literally tries to steal one from a poor unsuspecting fellow penguin. it got physical and other birds were able to help stop the abduction. wow.

it's remarkable, even in the bird world, what one will do to produce offspring -- to be a parent. the penguins and their little clawed feet travel for up to 60 miles in order to start their families. all that work and all that effort. I know exactly how they feel. they don't walk very fast and it's pretty damn cold. they travel through blizzards and exist in temperatures way below zero. the birds get tired, they're hungry, and some die. but it's that powerful instinct that drives the penguins to do this treacherous journey year after year. all for the baby penguins.

insult to injury

"things could be worse" so I am told. this is a terrible thing to hear and no doubt I have said it to someone in the past. I'm sorry. of course things could be worse but that is not the point. just because something can be more upsetting or tragic or sad that should not take away from what I am experiencing at the moment. do I need the worst possible diagnosis out there in order to justify my thoughts and feelings? do I need to hear that I have one more month to live to be allowed to feel like shit? when it's "the worst" then it's acceptable?

someone said this to me. "everyone experiences death in their life and we can all relate on some level. we all know what's appropriate to say to someone who has lost a loved one because we've been there. we all know what that sadness and grief feels like." infertility is a tricky one. for most people it is only something they have encountered in passing, if at all. so what do you say to someone caught up in the middle of an infertility diagnosis? good luck? I really don't know.

b and I are exhausted, frustrated, emotionally drained, finacially drained, disconnected, defeated. but you know what? "things could be worse."

round 2

thanks to a dear friend and some frantic phone calls, b and I were able to see someone at cornell today. cornell. the gold standard. the best in the biz. AND the most expensive. unfortunately the "famous for high FSH/poor responders" RE we wanted to meet with could not see us until june. even after another RE in boston (a friend of his) called him directly to see if he could possibly find time for a quick IVF with AMA and a MF chat. at least we're "in." round 2 officially begins.

we had a nice long visit. of course this included another ultrasound. man, I feel like I have my feet in those damn stirrups every 5 minutes. I don't even flinch any more. the RE even discovered a few more growing follicles. this was good news considering my newly aquired high FSH label. she also confirmed what I always believed. a fluctuating FSH does have an effect on a particular IVF cycle. I might have had better luck last month when it was 6.8. interesting. dr k disputed this little theory of mine. "my new RE" said there was no way cornell would have gone ahead with the stims with my level being so elevated. my next protocol (wow! I loooove saying "next") will consist of an estrogen patch that lowers your FSH pre-stims. again... interesting. I asked if there was a possibility of this working. "absolutely" she said. we start the end of may.

so I found that little glimmer of hope I was searching for high and low. I know our case is extremely challenging but I feel I really need to try IVF with my own eggs at least once before giving up. when we move to new haven our new insurance will not cover one penny of any IF treatment. 100% out of pocket. ouch. with b still a student I cannot possibly design enough logos to have an extra $15,000 to put towards another cycle and all those meds. this is it. we are going with the big guns here. I even celebrated with a coke at lunch and then a cappuccino — a large!

tomorrow I am back to the organic brown rice and kale. with pleasure.

the reality

we got a hideous message on the answering machine. "hi, your IVF has been cancelled. sorry. the office is now closed." click.

I asked b to make sure the message had my name in it. the call had to be a mistake and they meant to contact some other poor soul.

it all started when the alarm went off at 4:30 am. b and I drove to manhattan in the dark early saturday morning to have yet more blood drawn and another ultrasound. we listened to the local news and heard about a newborn baby girl found lifeless in a plastic bag. we were speeding down the highway in pursuit of our very own newborn. god, how can the universe be so cruel?!

the chubby doctor saw only 2 follicles with potential and 2 others that were simply too small. you could tell by the look on his face that this was not good. b asked big bad baldy a simple question only to get a snippy, defensive response "I know what I am doing here, believe me." what an ass. we are not here discussing plantars warts. do you think you could be a tiny bit sensitive? you are basically telling the two of us indirectly that we cannot have children. oh, and by the way, DH went to medical school so don't be so fucking condescending. chubby really belongs in a podiatry clinic. ingrown toenails seem more his speed than stressed out couples struggling with infertility.

I spent the rest of the day in bed. I felt at peace only while sleeping and the idea of waking up scared me. the reality is just too devastating and hard to accept. I've never seen b so disappointed and it broke my heart. while I grieved under the covers he feverishly searched the internet trying to find a morsel of hopeful information. nothing. a woman my age with an FSH of 16 has a 1% chance of conceiving even through IVF. I cannot help but to feel like we are being punished. and that poor little thing who somebody simply threw away was never given a chance. we would have safely and lovingly taken her into our home in a heartbeat. what a sin.

the junkie. the pain

the doctor added yet another stim injection. now it's three a day. three guaranteed new bruises. he also added another vial of the repronex to my "habit." this shit is painful. pain equals progress, right? progress equals results, right? the entire area around my bellybutton feels raw and there is nowhere else to go. put it this way, my underwear hurts.

I arrived at the clinic in nyc at 7:03 am. the place was packed. after signing in a nurse called out a number of names. "mary r, jane t, lucy w, betsy k..." the women were corralled into another room. when it was my turn I was wisked away for my monitoring. dr c (the "main man") did the ultrasound and then gave me the tragic results. 4 follicles. 4 follicles total. if I don't produce more by saturday the cycle is canceled. over. done. failed. you lose.

the pain in my abdomen is remarkable. the pain in my heart is overwhelming.

busy coping

I am not responding very well. my very high FSH (a sickening 16) made my RE max out my meds. the first round of bloodwork and ultrasound showed very little activity with my ovaries. it figures the hormones are not working for me yet physically but they are extremely effective emotionally. and the follistim headaches. yikes! sometimes my teeth hurt. I am convinced 1,000% that my surgery did indeed compromise the bloodflow to my ovaries. it was a huge risk and I took it.

my shots are not pleasant but I'm mananging. it is very intimidating mixing the tiny bottles knowing how significant each and every drop of medication is. I usually shake when trying to prepare each injection. remember, I design logos for a living. b has been a great and patient teacher and I don't think I could do this correctly without his expert guidance. I cannot believe I am able to give myself the shots. I have to say, I am pretty damn proud of my new skill. my belly looks and feels inflated and I can no longer button my pants. "excuse me miss, your fly is down." "yeah, I know! I prefer it that way." I have big red welts and all these little scabs. it's unattractive. it is not so much the "shooting up" but the medicine being injected that burns and hurts. finding a chunk of skin to pinch and stab that isn't tender and sore is almost impossible now. it's not pleasant but I'm mananging.

I just have to keep repeating to myself "it only takes one." however it's very difficult to shake the negative thoughts when my hormones (aka emotions) are so out of whack. we need a morsel of good news to give us a little hope. egg retrieval is tentatively scheduled in one week. but we need some eggs to retrieve.